Broken Bright Shield
by Lena86
Summary: Because things did not end well. RobinMarian. We Are Robin Hood - redux
1. Chapter 1

'All this time I have been fighting for England! Do you think I am going to let you kill England?'

'Marian! Get out of the way!' Gisbourne swiped at her with his sword, but Marian dodged, stepping back as he advanced.

'You'll have to kill me first.'

'No,' Gisbourne said, his lungs drawing in great breaths, 'we're going to get out of this. I'm gonna do this thing and then I will have power beyond measure. And we _will _be together.'

Marian found her lips curving in a smile, felt a curious sense of freedom explode in her mind. 'I would rather _die_ than be with you, Guy of Gisbourne.'

Gisbourne's voice was little more than a whisper. 'No.'

'I'm going to marry Robin Hood.' Marian said, her smile growing. Gisbourne stared at her. 'I love Robin Hood.' As she said it, Marian suddenly realised she had not done so before. The words felt secret, as though Gisbourne were no longer there. Just to make sure he had heard, Marian repeated them. 'I love Robin Hood.'

Just as she realised Gisbourne was stepping forwards, ready to run her through with his sword and that it was too late to do anything about it, Marian was pushed to the ground.

Marian heard the clash of swords and looked up to see Much and Gisbourne fighting. Marian was given cause to remember that Much, like Robin, was a Crusader. That, when they were children, Robin had insisted that Much have the same lessons. That the boys had spent the majority of their time practicing weaponry, and that Robin had never been much good at _play_ fighting.

For a few moments, it looked like Much had the upper hand. Then his shield shattered under a particularly harsh blow. Gisbourne pushed Much to the floor and Marian saw the sword in his stomach. As Gisbourne stepped towards Much once more, the courtyard seemed to explode with noise.

She looked over Much's prone body to see Robin yelling and running, his bow held loosely in one hand, his sword in the other. Gisbourne stared down at her, his expression somehow dulled, his mouth open. For one strange moment, Marian thought he would apologise for what he'd done.

'Gisbourne!'

Marian looked over her other shoulder and saw the Sheriff running for a horse.

As Gisbourne joined his master, the Sheriff screamed in Robin's direction. 'This isn't over, Hood! I will have England!'

Marian stared at the Sheriff as he and Gisbourne escaped on the horse. Where was the hail of arrows? _Where is Robin Hood?_

'Djaq!'

Marian turned when Robin shouted and got her answer. Robin was kneeling by Much's side, his bow and sword lay in the sand, forgotten.

_Much._

Marian crawled towards Robin and Much. Crouching beside Djaq as the woman examined Much.

'Much…' Robin said. Marian's head jerked up at the sound of Robin's voice. Broken. Terrified.

'Where is Marian?' Much asked, looking around wildly.

'I am here, Much,' Marian said, grasping his hand. She felt hot tears begin to fall down her cheeks.

'The King?'

'He is alive,' Marian said.

Robin was watching Djaq intently. The woman looked up at him, her tears streaking the dust on her face.

'I knew it,' Much said, 'I am going to die.'

'You are not going to die, Much.' Robin said.

'You have been a good master, Robin…' Much began.

'We are not friends,' Robin said. Marian looked up at him, feeling her own shock at the same time as she felt the gang's. 'You are my brother, Much, and you cannot die. We are going home.'

'I thought we had escaped death in the Holy Land, Robin.'

'We did. _We are going home_,' Robin repeated, his tone fierce. 'Djaq just has to patch you up first. We cannot have you bleeding all over Sherwood, you'd lead the Sheriff and Gisbourne right to us!'

Looking at them now, Marian saw the boys they had been. The boys who had played together, who had fought because Robin only ever had half a plan and that half always got them in trouble. Before the Holy Land. Before the Sheriff. Before Robin Hood.

'Marian,' Much called, 'take care of him?'

Djaq let out a breath. Robin and Marian looked at her quizzically. The young woman smiled slightly, but still looked worried. Marian looked back at Much. His eyes were beginning to close.

'I do not need looking after, Much!' Robin said.

'He lies, my lady,' Much said, gasping as Djaq prodded him. 'He needs a _lot _of taking care of. He is always doing the most ridiculous things…' Much's voice faded away and his head dropped to the side as he lost consciousness.

'We must take him to Bassam's house,' Djaq said.

'John,' Robin called, not taking his eyes from Much. 'Go with Djaq, take him. We will catch up.'

Little John stepped forwards and picked Much up.

'Be careful with him!' Robin said.

Marian moved to his side and put a gentle hand on his arm. Robin looked down at her and for a moment looked as though he were going to pull her into his arms.

'I cannot thank you enough, Robin.' The King stepped forward.

Robin looked up at him. 'It was Marian and Much, sire.'

The King nodded and smiled at Marian. 'You are fortunate in your friends, Huntingdon.'

Robin nodded, his attention clearly elsewhere.

'I owe Much a great debt,' the King said gravely. 'Is there anything I can do that would go some way to repaying that debt?'

When it became apparent that Robin was not going to speak, Marian said, 'Bonchurch, sire.'

'Bonchurch?' King Richard asked, looking from Marian to Robin.

When Robin still did not speak, Will stepped forward. 'When Robin and Much returned from the Holy Land, Robin made Much a free man.'

'Gave him Bonchurch,' Allan cut in.

'You could make it official,' Marian finished, 'Sire.'

The King smiled and nodded. 'It shall be so.' He looked at Marian quizzically. 'And what would you like, Lady Marian?

Marian's eyes flicked to Robin's face, but he was lost in thought, his mind clearly on his friend. 'I have everything I need for the moment, sire.'

The King's smile widened, then disappeared as he regarded Robin. He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. 'Robin,' he said, his voice soft, 'You are exhausted. Go to your friend, rest, but make sure you find me before you return to England. There is much I would say to you before you depart again.'

'And we must bury Carter,' Robin said quietly. King Richard nodded, his eyes filled with empathy. Robin looked to Will and Allan 'Make sure the King gets back to his camp, then come and meet us at Bassam's.'

*

After Djaq had assured them that Much would live, Robin had disappeared. Bassam's house was quiet now, everybody lost in sleep. Marian moved through the darkness, searching for Robin.

She found him sitting outside, by the door to the house. His hood was pulled up, concealing his face. He held his bow in his lap, looking down at it intently.

Marian approached and called out to him. He glanced up at her, guilt flashing across his features. 'Much-'

'Is fine,' she said, sitting beside him. 'Sleeping, actually, as you should be.'

'He saved your life.'

Marian nodded.

'Gisbourne would have killed you if it was not for Much,' Robin said, his attention on his bow again. 'I should have been there. For both of you.'

Looking at him, Marian was forcibly reminded of a time when they were children when she, chasing Robin and Much through the forest, had fallen down into a ditch, twisting her ankle. Robin – as always – was too far ahead to hear her cry out. It was the quieter, slower Much that had heard, had come back for her. Robin had been only seconds behind his friend, but had been almost beside himself with guilt.

She pulled his fingers from his bow and entwined them with her own. 'As much as I love Much, I do not think he was saving me.'

Robin looked at her quizzically, then said, 'The King-'

'Neither was he saving the King.' She looked at him silently for a moment, then went on, 'Last year, at my wedding,' she felt Robin's fingers tighten convulsively around her own, 'did you hear what Much said, in the church?'

'He said the King was an impostor,' Robin replied.

'He was so angry with me,' Marian said, her tone filled with dry amusement. 'Angier than even you, I think.'

'_That man is a traitor! And a liar! Is that legal?'_

_Marian stared at Much, feeling, as well as seeing, the utter anguish on his face. _

'_And-' Much pointed an accusing finger at her – 'Her heart belongs to another! Let her tell you that!'_

_She looked from Much to Gisbourne, tears streaking down her face under the veil. Much was her friend. She had known him as long as she'd known Robin. __**Robin**__. Where __**was**__ Robin? Why was Much here in his place?_

_The thoughts flicked through Marian's mind in a fraction of a second. She looked up at Gisbourne and she lied. Lied to save her father, to save herself._

_Much was dragged from the church screaming her name. Then, when he was out of sight, she heard him scream 'He __**needs**__ you! Marian!'_

'You spoke the truth, Robin. You and Much were always more like brothers than master and servant, than friends. He did what he did for you.'

Robin laughed mirthlessly. 'I did not want Much to come to the Holy Land. Did I ever tell you that?'

She shook her head. When Robin had informed her of his intention to join the Crusade, she had been more concerned with being angrily cold towards him to afford Much any thought.

'I did not want him to come to war. He was kind and gentle. He refused to listen and came with me anyway. When we got here, I was glad he did. Then when Gisbourne tried to kill the King, Much saved my life. We were so relieved to be going home, then we got back to Locksley and-'

'It will all be over soon.' Marian said, soothingly.

Robin stood and began to pace in front of the door. 'Will it? I do not think the King intends to come home until he has made peace, and until he does-'

'The Sheriff maintains his power.'

Robin nodded. 'When I saw you and Much lying there…'

Marian rose fluidly and stood in his path, putting her hands on his forearms. 'We are both alive.'

He looked at her, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes as they flicked over her face, as though confirming what she had said. Then he nodded and pulled her to him, breathing in the scent of her hair.

*


	2. Chapter 2

Having finally convinced Robin to retire for the night, Marian found herself walking towards the room Much was sleeping in. His broken shield rested on a chair and Marian picked it up, sitting on the chair with the pieces in her lap. After several moments she reached up and rubbed a hand over her tired eyes and realised they were wet.

She looked at her hand, puzzled; she had not realised she was crying.

She looked over at Much's sleeping form. Always paler than Robin, Much's pallor now was extreme. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and his breathing was shallow.

She was glad Djaq had said he would live, if not she would have been seriously worried. She knew, without even thinking about it, that if Much were to die, he would take a large part of Robin with him. It was strange indeed, contemplating a world without Much.

She was almost used to the idea of a world without Robin. A world where Robin was dead had been the stuff of Marian's nightmares for seven years and – as terrible as it sounded – she had become used to the idea; the pain she felt when she awoke in the middle of the night was now a dull ache.

Much, however, was a different story. Much _protected_ Robin; in a way Marian could not. He protected Robin from himself. He was a piece of Robin's childhood that Robin was unable to run away from, or escape, or translate into adulthood. Much had been a constant in Robin's life since Robin had been a tiny child. With no siblings, the troublemaking heir to Locksley had been told to 'go and play with Much'.

When Marian had joined them, years later, the three of them had become inseparable. Robin's first gang.

She looked down at the broken pieces of shield in her lap. The shield had intrigued her, when she had first been in a position to see it after Much and Robin returned.

She remembered thinking, through the haze of anger that had descended on her when Robin left - and intensified when he returned – that they had each brought back items that were extremely typical of the both of them. Robin, of course, had a curved Saracen sword and a curved Saracen bow. Much carried a bright shield. Its emblem either a flower or the sun, Marian had yet to decide which.

Robin had brought back the weapons of his supposed enemy. During her time in the camp Marian had come to understand the shadowed look in Robin's eyes. For long hours she had watched him in the forest, firing arrow after arrow, 'practicing', he said, the time he caught her watching. She had noticed the guarded look in his eyes, however, and did not let him catch her again.

Much had come back bearing a shield. His sword was the same one he had taken with him – or one very much like it – but the shield? That was something new. A bright shield to hold in front of himself and Robin both, and Marian knew, that if it was a choice, Much would gladly give his life for Robin.

Yet, there had been a distance between them lately. Not just lately. Since they had returned. At first everything had seemed as before, the minor detail of the pair of them being outlaws aside. But then, Marian had begun to notice the distance.

She knew it was Robin's doing. She wondered if Much knew why.

His presence hurt Robin. It hurt Robin to see what he had led Much to. To be reminded of his life before the Holy Land. Even Marian had caught Robin looking at her sometimes with an expression of hurt that had nothing to do with anything recently inflicted. She wondered if Robin even knew why he felt he had to push Much away. The truth was – Much terrified Robin.

'Are you okay?'

Marian looked up to see Robin leaning in the doorway, his face hidden in shadow.

'It is almost morning, my love.'

Marian nodded. Robin crossed the room to her side. Seeing the shield in her lap, he picked up part of it and inspected it. Then took the other pieces and laid them on the sideboard, almost reverentially.

Much gave a loud snore, reassuring them that he was in fact sleeping and not unconscious.

Robin laughed silently, flooding Marian with a feeling of utter relief. 'I think that is our cue to depart,' he said, smirking at her and pulling her to her feet.

He walked her to the door of her room, dropping a lingering kiss on her lips that made Marian burn inside.

After several searing moments, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.

She looked at him, glad he was better. Glad Much would be okay. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but instead found herself saying, 'Marry me.'

He blinked in shock, and then smiled. 'I thought we had a plan?'

'Half a plan,' Marian said, smiling at him.

Robin shook his head gently. Then he turned and leaned against the wall.

Marian worried her lip between her teeth. 'If you don't-'

'When?' Robin interrupted.

'Tomorrow.'

He shook his head, laughing. 'No.'

She stared at him, genuinely shocked into silence.

He pushed away from the wall, said, 'When Much is better.' Then he kissed her gently, turned and walked off in the direction of his friend's sickroom.

*


	3. Chapter 3

Marian awoke and dressed for breakfast feeling altogether better than she could remember feeling in a long time.

When she walked into the breakfast room, she smiled at the sight before her. Djaq and Will were sitting very close to one another, smiling and talking quietly. John was sitting at the end of the table, eating his breakfast with gusto; occasionally shooting long-suffering looks in the direction of the young couple.

Marian cleared her throat. Will moved away from Djaq, blushing furiously. Djaq merely looked amused and nodded a greeting to Marian. Little John smiled into his breakfast.

Marian took a seat and began to eat her breakfast. Deciding not to remark on Robin's absence, she asked, 'Where is Allan?'

'Still abed,' John remarked.

'Very clever,' Allan's voice drifted into the room, closely followed by its owner. 'A Dale, abed. Very witty, John.' He sat down and began to eat. 'Where's Robin?' He asked, his mouth full of bread.

Little John's response was characteristically terse. 'Out.'

'Out?' Marian asked. 'Where?'

'John knows. He says he's been told not to tell us,' Will said, having recovered from his embarrassment.

Marian looked at John, obviously about to ask, but forbore when John shot her a look. Instead, she turned to Djaq. 'What of Much?'

'He is well. I was concerned this morning, Robin woke me to tell me Much had a fever, but he seemed to come through it.'

Marian smiled. 'Do you know when he will be well again?' It seemed to her that Little John shot her a knowing look as she spoke, but the man said nothing.

'He will not be well enough to return to England for many days yet, perhaps several weeks. But Much is strong, I believe he will be up and complaining very soon.'

Will was watching Djaq with unrestrained admiration provoking a groan from Allan.

'Not bein' funny, but its not gonna be much fun back at camp with you two making puppy eyes at each other! Robin's bad enough but at least Marian puts him in his place.'

'Hear, hear!' John growled.

'Thank you, Allan,' Marian said, raising her glass to him. She sat back and ate her breakfast, letting the outlaws' banter wash over her. Since she had left the forest, she had truly missed these people.

When her father died, Little John had been a comforting fatherly presence. She knew that – in the rare moments when he was not being a leader – Robin also regarded him as such.

Djaq had been that rare thing for her – a female friend who understood her need to fight, and indeed, one who was as skilled, sometimes more so, than she. Djaq also understood the value of her independence, something none of the men could comprehend.

She looked at Djaq now, caught up in Will, happy to have him watching her, and making sure he continued to do so by throwing occasional smiles in his direction. Will, for his part was studying Djaq with the same intensity Marian had seen on his face when he was working, the love he felt obvious in his expression.

Two things had puzzled her, on that terrible day when the sheriff went missing in Sherwood Forest. Firstly, why Robin had sent Will to protect her, she had known, of course, that, being the quietest member of the gang, Will would be far less likely to be recognised. However, she had been sure that there was something else behind Robin's decision. Secondly, she had wondered at the fire in Will. The absolute surety that Robin would find her, no matter where she went, no matter if she was wed to Gisbourne.

'_Where ever you go - where __**ever**__ you go - Robin will move heaven and earth! He will __**find**__ you!'_

Will had been certain because he understood completely how Robin felt. And Robin had trusted Will because he knew this.

She turned, as there was the sound of someone entering the house. Her eyes on the door, she completely missed the amused look Allan sent Little John.

'Good morning, everyone,' Robin said brightly, entering the room and taking a seat beside Marian. He began to pick at the remains of her breakfast, stopping only when he realised they were all staring at him. 'What?'

'Where have you been?' Marian asked.

'John wouldn't tell you?' Robin responded, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

'Robin!'

'I have been into town.'

'Isn't that dangerous?' Marian asked.

'Bassam sent someone with me. I was perfectly safe.' Seemingly finished with her breakfast, Robin rose. 'I am going to see Much,' he announced, then headed out of the room.

-*-

Sometime later, Marian walked along the corridor, heading for Much's room. She stopped just outside when she realised she could hear Robin talking quietly. She peeked around the doorframe, careful not to be seen.

'The King will make you officially the Earl of Bonchurch and we shall go home.' Robin sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. 'But first you must wake up, my friend. I spoke to Djaq and she says you're just sleeping, but…' He trailed off and sat in silence for a moment before continuing. 'Was it like this for you? When I lay in my fever? I only remember the dreams. Is that where you are now? Do you dream of home? As I did?'

'_In the Holy Land, my master had dreams,'_ Much had said. _'He spoke your name.'_

The words had stung Marian then but now they made her smile. The smile faded as she wondered what – or who – Much would be dreaming of? Before they had returned, Robin and Much had known nothing of the state of Nottinghamshire, of England. Robin had been right to dream of going home. Now, however, things were different. They knew they were going home to the forest, not to Locksley or Bonchurch.

Then Robin spoke again. 'Do you dream of Eve, my friend? I swear to you, we will go home and we will end this. I'll not play games with the sheriff anymore. I will talk to the king. He must be made to see that he is needed at home. And if he comes home, you can go to Bonchurch. And I can go home.' Robin sniffed and rubbed his eyes. Marian realised he'd been crying. He looked up at Much, smiling slightly, some of the playfulness returned to his eyes. 'Look, Much, its like this,' he said, speaking slowly, as though talking Much through a plan he was making up as he went. 'I've told Marian we have to wait until you're well to get married, so you have to wake up. We do not want to give her the chance to change her mind.'

Robin stood and walked over to the sideboard, where something lay wrapped. Marian watched as he unwrapped the object and deposited it on the chair beside the bed. As Robin began to move towards the door Marian turned and moved quickly, concealing herself in a nearby doorway.

Robin walked past her, obviously lost in his own thoughts. Curious, Marian entered Much's room, her eyes immediately falling on the object Robin had placed on the chair.

She smiled, her suspicion confirmed. On the chair lay Much's bright shield. Whole and unbroken.

-*-


	4. Chapter 4

Marian started as her body began to slump to the side. She'd been falling asleep again. She rubbed her eyes, scolding herself internally. Why was it she seemed to be able to sleep here, but not in her own room?

In the days since she and Robin had agreed to marry, she had not been resting at all well. When in her own room her mind raced from thoughts of herself and Robin joined in marriage, to anxiety about England, to frustration at Much's refusal to wake.

She sent a vaguely accusing glare at the shield where it was propped up on the sideboard. When Robin had had it mended and brought it back to the house, she had expected it to weave some magical spell over its owner, to bring him back to them. After the first two days, she had realised this was fanciful.

She had caught the outlaws regarding the shield with what seemed like religious reverence. Without seeming to come to any verbal arrangement, the gang had begun to take it in turns to sit with Much; sometimes speaking in quiet tones, sometimes merely sitting in silence.

Robin, she noted, no longer spoke when he was with Much, and left as soon as someone else entered the room. After Robin had attended the burial of Carter in the desert, he had returned in a strange mood. The King had sent two messengers to 'see how Lord Much of Bonchurch was getting along.' Robin had sent the messengers back with the message that there was no change, and that he would attend upon the King when there was.

The second messenger had come only this afternoon and Marian had distinctly heard Robin mutter, 'one way or the other,' after closing the door behind the man.

She sighed and dropped her head into her hands.

'Perhaps you would sleep better in your own room, my lady.'

Marian's head snapped up, her brain barely registering the vague worry that she'd begun to hallucinate before she saw that Much was indeed awake.

She rose immediately, 'I'll get-'

'Leave him to sleep,' Much said, 'I'd prefer to deal with his guilt when he is rested.'

Marian smiled and sat back down. 'I'd ask how you feel, but that's probably a stupid question.'

Much smiled back. 'Actually, I feel fine. Well, tired… and hungry. But generally fine.' He paused for a moment, then added, 'Very hungry, actually.'

Marian's smile grew.

Much smiled, vaguely abashed. 'How is everyone?'

'They are all well. Worried about you, of course.'

'Of course. It is lucky we are in Bassam's house or they all would have starved.'

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, then Much spoke, affecting a nonchalance that was obviously only skin deep. 'How was the wedding?'

'What wedding?' Marian said, her expression all too innocent.

'Your wedding, of course. The one you started in the desert before Carter untied us.'

'Robin does not want to marry until you are well enough to attend.'

'Robin…' Much trailed off, looking choked.

'He has been very worried about you.'

'He likes worrying about me,' Much said absently. 'We will have the wedding tomorrow.'

'Much, you were seriously injured, you have only just woken up-'

'Help me up, please.' Much began to struggle against the softness of the pillows.

'It is the middle of the night!' Marian protested.

In the end, Much convinced her to help him up and to the kitchen. They were sitting eating some bread when a voice said, 'What is going on in here?'

Marian turned to see Robin in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. He was smiling, but Marian could see the worry in his eyes.

'I was hungry, Robin.' Much replied around a mouthful of bread. 'And Marian and I had a wedding to plan.'

Robin raised an eyebrow. 'Indeed?' He entered the room, taking a seat beside Marian opposite Much. 'How are you feeling, my friend?'

'Very well, now that I have eaten.'

'Well, I am glad to see that you have your priorities right. After days of worrying us sick you head straight for the kitchen.'

Marian smiled and twined her fingers with Robin's, who, she noted, looked hugely pleased, but mildly embarrassed.

'I was thinking tomorrow,' Much said. Robin's head snapped up, his mind had obviously travelled to other places. 'For the wedding.' Much clarified.

Robin looked at Marian, his eyebrows disappearing under his fringe.

'Can we do that?' Marian asked.

'Do you want to do that?' Robin said.

'Yes.' Marian responded.

Robin looked down at the table, grinning.

'The King should be there,' Much said thoughtfully. When Robin didn't respond both Much and Marian looked at him.

'Master?' Much prompted.

'Sorry, Much what did you say?'

'Master! If you are not going to listen-'

'Do not call me Master, Much.' Robin looked at Marian, 'Have you not told him?'

'Told me what?'

'I thought you should tell him.'

'Tell me what?' Much said impatiently.

'Perhaps the King should tell him.'

'Robin, if you do not tell me what you are talking about this instant I will… I will… I will sing at your wedding!'

Marian looked down, hiding a smirk.

Robin rose, pulling Marian to her feet beside him. 'As long as it is a song befitting your station, My Lord Much of Bonchurch.' He bowed and Marian curtseyed.

'Do not make fun of… Lord?'

Robin laughed. 'The King said that, if you ever chose to awake from your slumber, he would grant you the titles and lands of Bonchurch.' Much smiled widely. 'Of course,' Robin continued, 'Until the sheriff and Gisbourne are dispensed with you are as much a Lord as I am, but the principle is sound.'

'It is indeed,' Much said, rising unsteadily. 'And tomorrow, we shall have a wedding!'

*


	5. Chapter 5

Robin shifted uncomfortably. The desert was no place for this kind of clothing, he decided. Much had insisted he dress up for the occasion, refusing to allow him to wear the clothes he had with him, calling them: 'Outlaw's trappings. Not fit for Robin, Earl of Bonchurch and Lord of Locksley,' adding, 'And certainly not fit for Lady Marian, either, so put them down and get dressed' before leaving the room, leaning heavily on Will.

Robin had looked at Allan and Little John, seeking support. The latter had merely shrugged, tugging at the white shirt Much had given him to wear.

Allan had straightened his clothing – which he seemed to be enjoying immensely – and admired himself in the mirror. 'Don't know what you're complaining about, mate. This stuff's not half bad. And you used to wear it all the time.'

'Used to,' Robin had muttered, pulling the stiff shirt over his head. 'Seven years ago.'

'Maybe you should wear the soldier's get up, then.' Allan had suggested.

Three sets of eyes had turned to where the uniform of the Captain of the King's Guard hung. They had regarded it in silence for some moments before John said, 'No.'

'Def'nitely not,' Allan said.

Now Robin stood staring straight ahead, feeling exposed without his bow. Funnily enough, he _was_ wearing a sword, but it wasn't the same. With a bow, you could protect, but with a sword you were only little more than an arm's length away from death. The idea that it could be your opponent's death had long ago ceased to comfort Robin.

He shook his head. What was he doing, thinking like this on today of all days?

…_of all the men in the world, you are the only one who would propose over a fresh grave, by comparing me to your weapon…_

Robin smiled at the memory and looked up from the sand at his feet to where King Richard stood, watching him silently, looking as though he knew what was running through his mind.

'Robin,' Much hissed, nudging him in the ribs, 'stop smirking and be serious!'

That made Robin smile all the more and he heard Much sigh.

As he heard the people behind him go quiet, he gave in to the temptation to look over his shoulder. Marian was advancing on him, Little John holding on to her arm with a slightly dazed look on his face. The same one he'd worn since that morning, when Marian had apparently announced at breakfast that it was Little John she wanted to give her away, and that the King should preside over the ceremony in place of a priest.

Robin had not been at breakfast, having been forced to take it alone in his room after Marian insisted that it was bad luck for him to see her on the morning of the wedding and that they needed no more help in that department.

Djaq walked behind Marian, and Robin just had time to catch the star struck look on Will's face before Much nudged him in the ribs again, forcing him to look back towards the King.

When Marian reached his side, Robin found he could not look at her, as though she were the sun and would blind him if he looked at her too closely, or for too long.

The King spoke for several minutes, but Robin let the words drift over him, until Much once again elbowed him in the ribs, hissing 'Vows,' in a whisper loud enough to be heard all the way in Sherwood.

Robin spoke. 'I, Robin, Lord of Locksley and Earl of Huntingdon, take you, Marian Fitzwalter,' he paused, but only barely, knowing his next words would be remarked upon as unusual, before continuing, 'Lady of Knighton, to be my wedded wife…' He let the words fall from his lips unheeded, aware that he'd already said them in the desert. This was mere formality.

'Marian,' the King prompted.

'I, Marian Fitzwalter of Knighton,' – Robin could hear the laugh in her voice, and behind that the tears too, - 'take you, Robin Hood,' there was a ripple of surprise among the Crusaders assembled behind Robin, and he was sure he saw the beginnings of a smirk on the King's face. He finally allowed himself to look at Marian and could see that beneath her veil she was smiling at him. 'Earl of Huntingdon and Lord of Locksley, to be my wedded husband…'

Robin listened to the rest of her vows intently, still trying to contain his internal laughter at her first sentence, and damp down the fire that had risen in him at the look she'd just given him.

'Then I pronounce you man and wife,' Richard said, 'You may kiss your bride, Robin.'

Robin lifted Marian's veil and smiled at her, bending his head until his lips were just touching hers and murmuring, '"_I Marian, take you Robin Hood…_" You just married an outlaw, my Lady of Knighton.' Then covering her mouth with his own before she could respond.

*

'Much certainly knows how to throw a wedding party,' Djaq said, sitting down beside Marian and regarding the revellers with amusement.

The party had been thrown in the desert, in the King's encampment. It had been the most sensible place, and though Marian had not been initially enthusiastic, once she saw what had been accomplished here, she had to agree with Djaq.

'Perhaps,' Djaq went on pensively, 'I shall get him to perform the same service for me some day.'

Marian smiled at Djaq, then caught sight of Will, standing with Allan and watching them from the other side of the large tent. 'Some day soon, I think,' she said to Djaq.

Djaq laughed, 'I think so too. How did you like your wedding?'

'Quite well enough,' Marian said, unable to mask the slight introspective turn her thoughts had taken.

'You are thinking of those who are not here,' Djaq said.

Marian nodded. Then smiled brightly, 'I also cannot escape the feeling that we should have married in Sherwood.'

Djaq laughed again. 'Perhaps we should have another wedding for you when we return. And another when you go to Locksley!'

Marian raised her glass to Djaq and drained its contents. Both women looked up as Much arrived, escorted by Little John.

'Have you seen Robin?' Much demanded.

Marian shook her head, abruptly realising that she had not. She rose. 'I will look for him. Married barely four hours and already he escapes me!'

Much laughed and took a seat beside Djaq, while Little John, glad to be relieved of his burden, sought out Allan and Will.

Marian found Robin outside the tent, talking quietly with the King.

'So you will return to England, and keep fighting?' King Richard asked.

'I have no choice,' Robin replied. Rather than sounding as though he was weighed down by it, he sounded content.

'And Marian?'

Robin laughed. 'Marian is the reason I have no choice. Sire, my wife would kill me if I elected to go into hiding!'

Richard laughed at that. 'I daresay she would. I've said before, you are fortunate in your friends, Huntingdon. And to that I'll add: even more fortunate in your wife.' Robin laughed again. Richard, apparently sobered, continued, 'You and your gang of outlaws, Locksley, you are England. You must keep it safe until I can return.'

Marian saw Robin nod, his expression also serious. 'And you?'

'I will work for peace, and I will come home. You are England, and we are… what is it your men say?' Marian saw the King smile – somewhat drunkenly - in the darkness. 'Ah, yes. We are Robin Hood!'

Robin smiled, and looked down at the bow he'd managed to find, despite Much's best efforts. This was the Holy Land, after all, and who knew where the Sheriff and Gisbourne had gone?

'It is said that Robin Hood does not kill,' the King said pensively, 'That Robin of Locksley no longer aims his arrows where they will do fatal damage. Is it so?'

'I do not kill if I can help it,' Robin said. He looked down at the bow again, 'I cannot, your majesty.'

The King rose and clapped a hand on Robin's shoulder. 'There is something in that, I think. Something good.' There was silence as a look passed between the two men, then the King said, 'And now, I must find another drink, and convince our Lord of Bonchurch to regale me with another of his famous songs!'

When the King had disappeared into the tent, Robin, not taking his eyes off the sands in front of him, said, 'Come out of the shadows, Marian.'

Marian moved sheepishly towards Robin, annoyed that he'd known she was there. Robin smirked at her.

'Hiding from your own wedding party, Robin?' Marian said, planting her hands on her hips in an effort to appear affronted, rather than amused.

Robin rose and took her hand. 'Come with me.'

Marian followed Robin, noting that he had changed back into his outlaw clothing, save for the heavy tunic he usually wore. Robin with no Hood. She smiled at his back.

'Do not laugh at me, Marian,' Robin said, apparently watching her with the eyes he kept in the back of his head, 'I am more comfortable this way.'

'As long as you are comfortable, husband, I am sure it does not matter whether your clothing pleases me.'

Robin drew her into a tent she assumed was theirs, and turned to face her, a serious look on his face. 'Does my mode of dress displease you, Lady Marian?' Marian bit her lip, trying to keep from laughing, hoping that the half light of the candles did not give her away. 'I would remind you, my lady, that you married an outlaw. Robin Hood.'

Marian did smile then and reached for the laces holding Robin's shirt closed.

Robin laughed, exclaiming, 'Marian!' when she began to tug the shirt over his head.

'Do my actions make you unhappy, Robin of Sherwood?' Marian asked, finally getting the shirt off him and throwing it to the ground. 'Perhaps you would prefer to return to the party and join Much in his singing?'

Robin regarded her seriously for a moment, then pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely, nimble fingers working on the bodice of her gown.

*


End file.
